


Rising Tides, Quenching Flames

by NekoMida



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang is an Earthbender, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, F/M, Sex Dreams, Soul Bond, Soulbond Allows Characters To Share Dreams, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoMida/pseuds/NekoMida
Summary: Love's fire heats water; water cools not love.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38
Collections: Alternate Universe Exchange 2020





	Rising Tides, Quenching Flames

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voidaer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidaer/gifts).



It all started when he was sixteen.

Those nights alone, on the darkest parts of the iceberg, wrapped up in seal-skin blankets, moonlight shimmering above as he dreamed. There she was again, hands running along his skin, on the ruined side of his face, fire licking against his skin tenderly. He could smell the soap that she used, something sharp and spicy, warm to the senses as she curled into his body, hands resting on his chest. Her skin was a rich umber color, draped with countless golden adornments that sparkled in the low lighting of his mind’s eye. Zuko curled against her, porcelain skin against her own earthen-toned skin, and he breathed easily.

He should have been afraid, because the embroidered insignia on her clothing posed her position as someone in the Fire Nation. Those soft hands that ran across his face could have scarred him worse than the man who had murdered his mother, cruel and imposing with the immaculate, manicured nails. The softness of her lips on his neck made him ignore the lavish bracelets and red jewels that dripped from her shoulders and wrists, his own hands itching to touch her back. But if he did, the dream would end, and he’d wake up frustrated and alone again.

So Zuko let this mystery woman touch him, explore against his skin with tongue and teeth enough to drive anyone else insane with want. Her fingers touched against his groin, and then he couldn’t stand it any longer; his hands grabbed her wrists and pulled her into a ferocious kiss, ignoring the muffled whimper of protest that came from her chest. If she was going to drive him mad, then he’d drive her to equal frustration, temptress be damned. But as soon as his lips met the soft skin of her neck, thumb running across the plump lower lip sinfully bruised by his own actions, Zuko woke.

Night after night, the dream became routine, always a bit of mistrust on Zuko’s part because fire was painful, and it had cursed him with hearing loss in his left ear, semi-blurred vision in the eye, and a tendency to hide away from people. But his dream lover touched him without fear or malice, always gentle and understanding. Fire never flew from her fingertips towards him, only a warmth from her skin that radiated outward and into his own. She was always curious, touching the fur on his sealskin coat, fingering the designs on his clothes that were sewn in with bone needles, and Zuko felt the silk of her dress, ran his hands along her thighs and the gilt embroidery that curved above her breasts.

Months passed and he could see more and more of her, touch the silken skin that so tormented him every time he caught a glimpse. He’d still never spoken to her, only ran his hand along the crest of her collarbone, the slope of her shoulders, the valleys and hidden depths of every inch of her body, known to his hands and eyes alone. Nervousness was never an option with those warm, caring hands touching him, making him come undone with every single stroke they laid upon his skin.

Zuko unclasped the heavy necklace that his dream lover wore, the sparkling rubies paling in comparison to the beads of sweat growing on her skin as he continued to undress her, excitement building as they crashed together like the sea upon the ice. She straddled him, the sealskin pants already opened in anticipation, and his lover lifted her dress from her hips, sinking onto his length so slowly that Zuko felt he’d come right then and there. It was like heaven, the warmth of her skin against his own, the feel of her wrapped around him, rocking her hips into his, even the sensation of plush lips on his as her fingers tangled into his hair.

He’d kill to be able to hear her voice, the actual sounds she made other than the soft cries and moans that made up their time together. Whether it was a gift from the spirits or a curse from the demons, he didn’t care; all that mattered was the way that they moved together, cresting like the tides would. If she was the sun, then he was the moon, daring to glimpse upon radiance that came to him only at night and left him wanting, craving to stay with her more. Instead, he’d wake in a cold sweat, having to satiate himself into a closed fist with nothing but memory serving as a reminder that they were only dreams.

Until the day, two years later, that a Fire Nation ship arrived near their shores, looking for the Avatar. Anyone could clearly see that the Avatar was long gone, a myth purported by the masses to keep hope alive in the aftermath of the comet. Their ancestors had fought, but the tribes were left devastated--and none more so than his own. His mother had been killed because they suspected her of being a waterbender; both he and his sister had inherited the gift, but Azula had gone mad while they were still young and had to be sent to the North. Zuko had stayed behind and worked himself to fruition, making sure that their defenses were well-prepared in case of an attack.

The large steam ship pulled up to the ice, crushing several smaller ice floes within its wake, to dock against the snowbanks, drawbridge lowering. And when Zuko peered over the shimmering snow to the invaders, he saw two--a man and a woman--exiting the ship, boots crunching in the crisp snowpack. They were headed towards the village, and his breath drew inwards, immediately positioning himself to run towards them with hands in the air.

Maybe, just maybe, if he showed that he wasn’t a threat, that he hid his bending abilities, they’d leave. Whatever they were here for it probably didn’t exist, or they were here for some other nefarious purpose.

But when Zuko drew closer to the two, he realized that they were around his age, young and fresh-faced with wonder at the rainbows appearing in the ice, the birds overhead cawing, the sound of the ocean so far and yet so near. Something was distinctly familiar in the way those limbs moved, even covered by a heavy coat and boots, though he couldn’t be sure of what exactly it was that made it so familiar. And yet he still crept close hood drawn over his head, the hair hiding his ruined eye even as the two approached.

“Easy there, seal blubber. My sister just wanted to visit and see if there was indeed still a village here. Our father said it would have sank into the frigid sea by now.” The male of the two spoke, somewhat annoyed at the interference, though Zuko raised a brow at the notion.

“We’re still here. Thanks for asking.” It was disdainful, something he shouldn’t have said despite the imminent danger, with the others hiding behind him and taking cover in case their village was destroyed completely by some hostile move.

“What a welcome.” The woman spoke, and Zuko saw the curve of her face, almost too familiar but still not reaching into his mind. “You could at least offer us something to keep the chill away. Or invite us into your home, show that we’re not going to hurt anyone.”

At that statement, he chuckled, fists clasped at his side. “We all know that the powerful Fire Nation needs no invitation if it really wants something.” With a slight shrug, Zuko shifted his stance, making sure his good eye was firmly planted on the two, the other side of his face still hidden from view. It didn’t bode well for others to be asking about his scar, or worse, wanting to touch it.

The man stepped instinctively in front of the woman, though she shoved him aside, nearly stomping up to Zuko as his fingers twitched, ready to freeze her if she showed any inclination of attacking him. A death sentence was better than his people being further decimated, and his thoughts screeched to a halt just as she neared him, stopping just short of being able to touch him.

“Look. We’re cold, we’re tired, and if I have to spend another minute on that damn boat with my brother and all the men I’m going to go insane.” Her hair ruffled in the chilly air, though Zuko’s eye squinted at her further. He couldn’t place why she looked so familiar, still not having seen her face other than the gentle curve of her cheek, the slight plushness of her red lips as she spoke. Sighing, he held up his hands, before moving aside. 

“You’ll come to my hut then. You’re in luck that I’ve got extra tea, it’s rare enough as it is.” His distaste was clear enough, though he still squinted with his good eye at them. Zuko didn’t want to turn his back on those two, to find out later that they’d done it on purpose to catch him off-guard.

Trekking back through the snow was blissfully silent, though he felt eyes from all over watching him as they approached his hut, the snow carefully packed over to preserve the heat inside. Zuko’s fire was dimming, and he tossed a bit of the dry driftwood he was able to keep around into the fire pit, the cooking cauldron covered to preserve the heat in his meal. Boiled sea-prunes and kelp, with a hint of seal blubber to keep the energy going. A kettle was off to the side, and he maneuvered the cauldron out of the way, the kettle hanging on its cast iron rack.

“It smells awful in here. Like something died.” The Fire Nation man spoke, taking off his hood to reveal shaved sides and a bit of a shaggy wolf-tail styled into a bun, eyes just as golden as the ones he remembered. The eyes that had killed his mother, taken her from him for the crime of being a waterbender--not that they knew that she’d hidden the last two waterbenders and that she was not one at all.

“Shut up, Sokka. You should be grateful to our host for letting us in the warmth of his home.” The woman chided him, her hood pushed back to reveal cascading brown hair glistening with gold and rubies, golden eyes staring back into sapphire for just a moment, though Zuko had yet to remove his hood. “Thank you. I’m sorry my brother’s an ass.”

“He’s right though. To someone who doesn’t live here it must smell pretty rank.” Zuko shrugged, and held out two wooden bowls for their tea, and one for himself. At least his uncle had managed to teach him how to make tea that wasn’t ‘hot-leaf-juice’, a travesty to the man who now held himself in the Earth Kingdom, making a living with his tea shop. It was famous to everyone in the world, and the two royals in front of him probably had indulged with a cup at some point. “Take these. The tea will be hot, so careful not to drop the bowls.”

“As if we’d singe our own fing--ouch!” Sokka had the first bowl, and Zuko had barely poured the hot tea in when his fingertips started to shake. “That’s hotter than fire flakes!”

“I warned you.”

“Not well enough, mister smarmy water tribe!”

“Enough!” The woman’s eyes snapped ferociously towards her brother, and he shrank slightly under her glare. “My brother means to say thank you for the warm drink, don’t you, Sokka?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks a lot, Katara.” Sokka was sipping at his bowl, wincing at the heat there, just as Katara looked up at Zuko. He’d been pouring her bowl of tea when he realized she was staring at him, trying to figure something out. 

“Something wrong?” 

“Take your hood off.” It was commanding, powerful, enough that her words shook him to the core.

“I’d rather not. It’s not pleasant for other people to see my face.” As if the scar was a shameful thing, a mark of his dishonor, his own personal brand of failure. But she still insisted, the firm look making him swallow. “Please. Not now.”

“As your princess I’m ordering you to take it off, or I’ll take it off for you.” Her fingers curled into the soft flooring, across the rugs that draped over the snow and ice, kneeling before him. Zuko instinctively reared backwards just as her hands came up to his hood, and she tossed it behind his head.

A hand came up to hide the scar over his eye, the good eye narrowing in distaste. But she’d already seen it, her own golden eyes wide. It wasn’t with disgust, more like curiousness, although that seemed to make him even more uncomfortable. A dark flush came over his face, turning his head away before Sokka saw, hiding his shame.

“Happy now?” Zuko’s fist clenched slightly, the building embarrassment and anger causing the water nearby to bubble in retaliation. He had to be careful, or his temper would get the best of him, and he’d reveal his secret. Unclenching his hand, though his heart pounded in his chest, Zuko gritted his teeth, breathing out to release the pressure building within him. “Finish your tea, then leave.”

“Not until you tell us what you know about the Avatar.” Sokka had managed to drain his bowl despite the altercation between Zuko and his sister, and was in the midst of pouring himself another bowl.

“The Avatar disappeared over a hundred years ago. Why the hell would I know anything about them? Are you so blind to see that we have nothing here that might lead to him? We’re barely surviving on our own.” It came out as a hiss, impudent on his tongue, and Zuko regretted it the minute that it left his lips, watching as Sokka’s hands drew towards the sword on his side.

It was Katara who held up a hand, a frown on her face as the gold clouded over in her eyes. “We’re leaving, but we’re staying docked for a few more days. I suggest perhaps you warm up to the idea of us being around more.”

More upset than anything, Zuko watched as they left, Sokka sneering at him slightly as he pulled up the protective hood to shield them from the bitter chill outside. But it was Katara’s eyes that chilled him to the bone, searing hot and hatred pouring from them, confusion swirling in the irises so unlike anything he’d ever experienced. His head was pounding after they left, and Zuko let out a breath of relief, gingerly touching the scar on his face with a few trembling fingers. Too close for comfort, too close for much else other than fear and loathing that he looked the way he did.

That night, his dreams were more vivid, finding his lover in his arms a more soothing presence than before. At least she was careful of his fears and insecurities, knowing that he was just enough while never seeing his face. The thing that burned into his mind wasn’t the feel of her skin, or the gentle grasp of his face, but Katara’s eyes watching him curiously. He wondered how those plush lips would have felt on his own, to do the things that his lover had done over the past two years...but it was all a fantasy, all in his head.

Bleary eyes opened to the darkness, hand on his stomach just as a dark figure moved into his vision, brushing the hair from his ruined eye, touching the scar there. Zuko could have sworn he was still dreaming, but the touch felt entirely too real, too heavy on his skin despite the gentlest of movement, admiration there. His vision snapped to attention, hand grabbing onto a thin wrist just as a hand moved over his mouth, a hurried shush sounding.

“Breathe, breathe. I’m not going to hurt you, but I had to see for myself.” Instinct took over just as his eyes adjusted, the warm hand on his mouth stretching to a silk-clad arm, then further to his intrusive visitor from earlier. “It is you. I thought you weren’t real until today...when I saw your scar.”

Zuko’s breath calmed, his heart thudding in his chest despite the knowledge that he could fight this woman off if need be, though it would raise an alarm in the Fire Nation ship and her brother would probably decimate the population. He waited until she removed her hand, brushing the hair back over his eye as he sat up to look at her, fury in his eyes.

“Let me explain…”

“You better have a damn good reason for coming to my home in the middle of the night, and touching me while I’m sleeping.” Zuko growled, though he released her arm from his grasp. It was better that both of his hands were free, in case she tried something funny and he had to reveal his waterbending.

Katara’s face frowned, and she huffed, fingers digging into the thin silk gown she wore. She seemed just as annoyed as Zuko was, and she put a finger in his chest prodding as her brows burrowed together. “I’ve been having dreams with you in them for two years now, you ass! Every night curled up against your calloused hands, listening to the way your heart beats in your chest, and, and…”

Her ears were red at the tips, face flushed as she hissed the remainder under her breath, looking away as if she was ashamed to say it. Zuko’s good eye narrowed, his hands relaxing for a moment just as Katara removed her finger from his chest, placing her hand over her face.

“You’re the one who leaves me wanting every single night, wishing you were real so that I could actually have more of you!” 

Swallowing his pride a bit, Zuko shook his head, wondering what had led them to this point, when tales that his uncle had spoken of came roaring back to life in his head. Tales of people who were bound together, heart and soul, seeing each other in their dreams, always unable to see the other’s face until they met during their lifetime. Once they shared body and soul for the first time, nothing would be able to separate them save death.

“You actually believe in that old stuff? It’s just a legend, something to keep the romantics guessing. There’s no way who you’re dreaming of is me.”

“But it is you. You have the same scar on your face, and it goes behind your ear.”

“You could have just seen that today, Katara. That’s not proof.”

“F-fine then.” She bit her lip, before turning her golden eyes towards him, catching the few glimmers of light in the darkness. “You have a scar on your hip, shaped like a star. It’s old, but still dark. There’s no way I would know it was there unless you were naked in front of me earlier.”

She was right, though he’d be hard-pressed to admit it, a hand running through his hair as he tried to process the idea of magical, soul-bonded pairs with this woman. “And I suppose that you have a crescent-shaped scar just under your shoulder, that resembles the moon?”

Katara turned around, dropping the silken gown down her shoulder just enough for him to verify that there was indeed a scar there that matched his dream lover’s. “Does this answer your question?”

Sighing, Zuko pulled the gown back up over her shoulder, a feeling of lightning running through his veins as his fingers grazed the soft skin, lips parted slightly in awe. She was real, and she was telling the truth. But if that was the case, then he’d been falling in love with his own enemy for well over two years. It was nothing short of incredulous, though he hardly had the voice to speak.

“...what do we do now? There’s no denying that there might be some...truth...to those old stories, but you’re a princess, and I’m just a scarred man from the Southern Water Tribe. While I’m technically a prince, I’d still be considered a peasant by the Northern Water Tribe. Our families would never let us be together, let alone the rest of the world.”

“Sokka can shove it. Just because he’s older does not mean he’s the boss of me. I’m perfectly capable on my own, and I won’t be sold off to some other noble for producing babies and being a simpering court wife. I...decided to come to the Southern Water Tribe on a whim that maybe the legend was true. The Avatar was last seen flying towards the south a hundred years ago, and it’s a long shot but maybe...they do exist somewhere.” She seemed to shrink a little at the thought, but remained firm and steadfast in posture, something Zuko could admire. 

Although the thought of the Avatar still being alive after a hundred years was certainly a fairy tale at this point, he couldn’t help but feel there might have been some truth to her words. After all, they were a living embodiment of a fairytale--soulbound together through dreams, star-crossed through their own nationalities. “Maybe we’ll find out together. But for now, it’s late, and you should go before you’re discovered missing. I don’t want anything to happen to my people.”

Or himself, though the thought was selfish. Now that she was here, he could actually smell the spice lingering on her skin, the perfume in her hair as alluring as her lips were, plump and red. Zuko shook his head before staring too long at her; if he didn’t stop, he’d never be able to resist the fact that his lover was right there within his grasp, a mere arm’s length away. How many nights had he woken from those dreams, desperate for her gentle touch to be real and unwavering? He could have it all right then and there, but for his cowardice.

“I don’t want anything to happen to them either but Sokka’s a sound sleeper. And the guards know better than to talk even if I was seen.” A dark flush graced Katara’s skin, enough that Zuko could see how prettily it stained across her neck, down to the split in the gown just above her breasts. Zuko felt his mouth go dry, lips parting slightly as his arousal surged forth, memories of nights spent together screaming to the surface.

“Is there something else you wanted to discuss? That can wait until morning, you know. It’s too cold to be out here in just those thin silks.”

Her own lips parted, just as she fired back a response. “I just woke from a dream about you, and I had to confirm it for myself. And...I’m always left a bit wanting after I wake up.” Embarrassment sounded in her voice, and she looked away, letting Zuko’s heart pound in his ears as he savored her shyness. It was rare in their dreams together, but in person...

He had to chuckle a bit at that, rubbing the back of his hand across his neck shyly. “You’re not the only one left wanting, princess.”

Zuko could feel her eyes cast downward to his lap, where he was starkly still erect underneath the skin blankets, but his hand caught her chin just as soon as she went to turn away, directing her eyes towards him. “Look at me.”

Katara did so, eyes searching his face, just as gentle fingers brushed away the hair that had fallen in front of his scarred eye. His breath hitched slightly; the skin was sensitive and could be painful if touched too roughly, and the vision in his eye was blurred, enough that the clarity between them wasn’t enough to capture just how beautiful she was in the dim light of his home. She was so careful, fingers exploring the closed lid of his eye, at the ridge of his brow, to the back of his ear, and against the apple of his cheek.

His thumb swiped at her bottom lip, pressing against the softness there, heat rising to his face as he flushed darkly, leaning in so that their lips almost touched. Katara whispered something against his lips, just as she leaned forward to press them together. Her fingers tangled in his hair, mouth hungry as his own, battling for dominance, only drawing back when their breathing became abated. It felt like lightning in his veins as Zuko’s fingers found their way to her delicate neck, nearly crushing her back against him.

Push and pull, fire and water, a balance in nature. That was what his uncle had always told him, that everything had an equal and opposite force that worked in tandem together. Wise advice indeed, as Zuko pulled Katara to his lap, groaning into their kiss at her touches on his skin. They couldn’t be any closer, which was frustrating; he wanted to be able to feel her skin on his own, to taste the salt-spice sheen that laid under the silks, to breathe her in as naturally as the air around them.

Those thin silks that made up her gown could easily be shredded in his fingers if he wanted to, leaving her bare to his vision, but her hands were already working the ties to his shirt, pulling it over his arms. His blanket was shoved down to his feet, and Zuko murmured his affections against her skin as Katara straddled him, his hand steadying her back as it balled into crimson silk. Electricity poured through his veins as Zuko pulled them backwards, rolling so that he was overtop of her, Katara’s legs tight around his waist.

Lips found the skin of her neck, hands steadfast to her hips as they shook with nervous energy and arousal, sliding beneath the silks against her thighs, cupping the cheeks of her ass as his mouth wandered. Fingers tightened in his hair as his teeth pulled the ribbon at the center of her chest that would let her breasts spill free, heady moans filling the empty space as Zuko kissed every visible inch he could find, latching onto a dark nipple with fervor. Dreaming his fantasies with this woman was one thing. Living them was another thing entirely.

Nails raked across his scalp as Zuko’s fingers slipped beneath the scrap of lace that barely covered her core, teasing up until he found something that triggered a shuddering gasp, arching into his hips. Soft strokes and teases against her clit made Katara’s legs shake as tears formed at the corner of her eyes, fire coiling in her belly as energy surged in her veins. Zuko’s mouth covered her cries and whimpers as his hand slid against her core, opening her so that his fingers could tease her more.

But just as he slipped a finger inside, he could feel the way she tightened, head hanging against her as he breathed in sharply. Words would spoil the moment, her hips arching up into his hand to rub her clit against his palm while he curled a second finger into her, slick covering his hand as she came. Katara’s heels ground against the bed, a cry tearing from her throat of pure pleasure and bliss that Zuko nearly lost control of himself instead of easing her into a gentle bliss. He was sure to have nail marks on his back tomorrow, not that he minded; he had an opportunity and they both were willing to give it a chance.

He just didn’t expect it to be so visual, with the way her lips parted as she furiously whispered his name, a whine tearing from her throat as she orgasmed. Rubies that had been braided into her hair were scattered all around her now, damp with sweat as Zuko wiped his hand on the edge of the bed and curled next to her, their fevered kisses now soft and slow. Katara’s hands stroked Zuko’s chest, finding each scar that she could remember as her hands wandered to muscles firm beneath her fingertips.

A long, limber leg shifted over Zuko’s hip, straddling him even as they stole kiss after kiss together, warmth flooding his entire body as he struggled to keep sapphire eyes open. His chest felt heavy as she looked down at him, raising up to grind against his erection slowly, rocking tantalizingly. His breath caught in his throat while his hands lifted the gown up to her hips, Katara’s eagerly pushing his sealskin trousers down. A hiss sounded at the chilled air, remedied by Katara as she sank down onto his length, Zuko’s head hitting the pillow at the sensory overload. Better than any dream, warm and real as her manicured hands touched his face, warmed his body with a heat that had to be from within.

The whole damn house could melt and he’d be entirely fine with it, just for this moment.

She took control, hips rocking to her own pace, while Zuko was desperate to not spoil the moment for either of them despite his own instincts screaming for more. Every thrust, every slick slide against him coaxed a soft groan from his throat, and soft cries from Katara’s; the flush across her skin was like an algae bloom in the sea, rare and beautiful in his eyes, though Zuko wanted to run his hands across her skin more. To see every inch of her, not just the shadows of her breasts in the gown illuminated with beads of frozen sweat, or the way her lips parted as his fingers drifted across her neck, desperate to not lose control in the moment.

Tension built in his stomach, muscles tightening as he neared release, sitting upwards to cradle her body against his own, pushing her further down onto him. Their lips were a mess of tongues and teeth, moans and sighs coming just as Zuko buried his face into her neck, spilling into her with a stream of quiet curses. His vision was white, and Katara wailed softly as her own orgasm washed over her, holding onto Zuko for dear life. He didn’t want to let go of her, staying put in that position for just a moment longer to catch their breath, before nuzzling her throat.

They were both a mess, sticky with sweat and their own spend, though Zuko pressed a kiss to Katara’s lips before letting her move from him. Sweat crystallized on her looked like tiny diamonds or pearls, and he lit the lamp nearby to take in the vision of her sprawled out in his bed. It would have to last him, especially if she left and they could only meet in their dreams.

He had half a mind to start carving a betrothal necklace just to shock the rest of the world, to see her marked by his own hand. Selfish, though how could anyone blame him? She was beautiful, and it was well-known that the Fire Nation’s royal family were firebenders. As if her family would even find him worthy in the first place, and even if they did, his lover was fiery and independent enough to say no on her own--and he wouldn’t force her into anything, even if he could.

“There’s water in some of the barrels, if you want me to boil some to clean with.” Sheepish, as if Zuko hadn’t just buried himself into her, held her in his arms as her name finally graced his lips. Katara still hadn’t asked his name, though he didn’t think that it mattered at this point--if soulbonds were truth, then names were no longer necessary. Uncle had always murmured stories to him as a child to put him to sleep after nightmares, telling him that his soulmate would know his soul and its contents, and know that it was pure.

“In a moment. I’ll help heat it, you’re sticky too.” Katara’s eyes looked over him, before she shed her gown to the floor, curling into the furs on Zuko’s bed. Warm, and fairly clean; he’d done laundry this week and thankfully his home was tidy enough. “It’s...weird. I can see you normally, but if I close my eyes, or look away, you shimmer. As if the waters of the sea run through your body.”

“They do.” He held up a finger to his lips, before flicking a bit of water up with his dominant hand, swirling it into fluid shapes that bubbled across the air. “My mother...was a waterbender. So is my sister...and so am I.” Zuko much preferred the two blades that his father had left to him, the metal solid and clear when the world was hazy around him. Even a dishonorable, disfigured son like him could be useful if given a purpose.

Golden eyes never left his frame, studying. “What a pair we are, then. Fire and water, never to mix.” 

“I wouldn’t say that. The tides depend on the sun and the moon. Uncle always tells me stories, that we rise with the moon, while the Fire Nation rises with the sun.”

“Which is why I’m sleepy. It’s entirely too late to be having philosophical conversations.” Katara yawned, nuzzling against the blankets. “Hurry up, it’s cold. I’m just staying here until morning, and I’ll lie to Sokka if I have to. Say I was investigating the culture here, that’ll bore him into leaving me alone.”

Chuckling, Zuko held out a bowl, bending the chilled water to it before handing it off to his lover, watching as she warmed it with the edges of her fingertips. If she’d seen water in his veins, then he was seeing fire in hers--flickering lights of orange and yellow, warmth personified beneath the skin as it moved within. She took a clean cloth from him and swiped it across the offending areas, before rinsing it and pressing it against his skin. Gentle, firm wipes rid him of the evidence of their tryst, and she tossed the cloth back into the bowl.

“Get into bed. I’ll keep us warm with just my body heat.”

“And…?”

“And then, in the morning, I’ll talk to my brother. See if you can remember anything from the stories your uncle told you, maybe say that the Avatar was here but now he’s not. I’ll find a way for you to come with us. We need a guide to the Water Tribes and the rest of the world.” Another yawn stifled her throat, and Katara buried herself into the furs, shivering at the cold. 

Zuko set the bowl aside, fingers brushing against her cheek tenderly, before he shook his head. “You are something else, you know? I could get in so much trouble for having you here, not to mention deflowering you.”

“Hate that word.” Her reply was quieter, softer. “M’not some delicate flower.”

Climbing in next to her, Zuko flinched when Katara curled into him, naked skin pressing against his own as a leg threaded between his. Her fingers drifted towards his scar, tenderly feeling the lines of the burn marks on his face, before her lips pressed against it, Zuko’s hands clutching her hips nervously.

“Does it hurt?”

“...sensitive. Not pain, but not pleasant either.” Like a jolt of lightning through his veins, truthfully. 

“...sorry.” Quiet as the fingers pulled back, gold looking into sapphire for a moment. “...I don’t know your name.”

He was about to tell her, when he felt her body go slightly limp, heavy against his arms and chest. She’d fallen asleep, fighting all the way; just what he’d expect from a firebender. “Zuko. My name is Zuko.” A whisper, answered with a soft hum just as she snuggled against him.

For once, he slept without feeling like something was missing. And without having to relieve himself of whatever would come next. The morning would come soon enough, and with it, the promise of perhaps something warmer, more fulfilling in his life. If not, then he knew who she was, and there was no denying that his Uncle Iroh would help him in getting back to her. His mind wandered to the Avatar, debating on if the ice-floe he’d seen while fishing was really naturally formed, or if it was something else entirely.

It could wait until morning. The Avatar had disappeared over a hundred years ago; a few more hours of not being discovered wouldn’t hurt anyone, especially not an all-powerful being wielding the elements.

\------

Morning was not as blissful as he would have hoped, the sun gleaming off the tops of the frozen tundra and ice caps ominously. A sinking feeling was in Zuko’s stomach, something that usually accompanied an event that was disastrous or difficult. He was already in a difficult position, so what else could possibly go on that would bring him such a feeling?

Katara had left by the time that he’d woken, stolen away to the steel-clad ship still docked at the edge of the ice. Her words about the Avatar still haunted him, a lie to bring forth the future even though there had been countless wars in the time since they’d disappeared. Maybe it was just a myth, and he was getting ahead of himself? Too many images and thoughts ran through his head, cynical at best but full of curiosity.

He supposed it was time to really see if that was the case, if the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach--his flow of chi, according to Uncle--had anything to do with it. Zuko could already see the twin coats of red and black disembarking from the ship, their colors a stark contrast to the blue and white around the rest of their surroundings. What was it like out there, where the Fire Nation had taken over so many years ago, before they had devastated his people? Did they really have the same ruling class, or had things changed? Zuko wanted to believe that they had been attacked by an outlier party, something that had driven his father off to the farthest reaches of the earth to prevent another such attack.

Or maybe he was hoping that his two shameful children would dissipate under the arctic sun, dying out with the rest of their culture. Mad with grief, not vengeance; knowing his two children would be better off dead than in such a world.

Shaking his head, Zuko’s shoulders dropped slightly, and let his mind clear. If there was an Avatar still, even if they were frozen, there was no way to have survived this long. People didn’t live to be over a hundred except in rare cases. Perhaps they’d find a corpse, and the dream would end, Katara returning to her people, and him remaining alone in the South Pole. He waited until the brother and sister pair approached him, avoiding Katara’s glances at him, before pointing out their route.

“If the Avatar really is here, then they’ll be closer to the icebergs and ice-floes. If something had landed nearby, one of the villages would have spotted it and kept track of it.” Even a century passed down through the ages much like stories did--orally. “I’ve brought a canoe so we can go through the seas easier.”

“A canoe?!” Sokka burst out, hand on his sword as if he prepared to draw it. “There’s no way a tiny canoe is going to help us find the Avatar. And even if it did, logically there’s no way for someone to survive out here for a hundred years--maybe a few years at best if well-equipped.”

Zuko shrugged, then held out the paddle. “Well, this is all I’ve got. Take it or leave it.”

“You’re bad at trying to be good, you know that?”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Will you two shut up and get in the canoe? Daylight is burning, and we’re in the South Pole, where daylight is scarce.” Katara stared at the two of them, her gaze burning into Sokka’s head and straight into Zuko’s good eye. “It’s better than nothing, Sokka. Deal with it.”

Her brother frowned, and Zuko smirked slightly, hiding the chuckle behind the warmth of his coat as the prince in question folded his arms, looking like he was about to pout. If only he and Azula had this sort of connection, maybe things would have been better. But she was a prodigy, and completely mad; they would never have been on the same level. Gesturing towards the small canoe, Zuko helped Katara in first, and then placed Sokka in the middle. Better to have him between them, just so he could avoid the inevitable argument that Zuko knew would follow if he sat next to Katara.

“It smells funky.” Sokka’s nose wrinkled, before he started to become nosy, looking over the edge of the canoe while Zuko paddled them out into open water. “Look at all the fish…”

“I wouldn’t…!” Zuko attempted to warn the prince, but was too late, just as an otter seal came to the surface and spat water directly into Sokka’s face. Horror and amusement filled his chest as the prince looked stunned, turning to Katara.

“...what the hell was that?” It only took a moment for him to figure out that he now smelled like fish, and Sokka grimaced. “Great, now I smell like fish! I don’t suppose you’re one of those magic-water people who can bend water out of your clothes and the like, are you?”

“Nope. Even if I could--which I can’t--you’d still be stuck smelling like sea snails and ocean fish.” Zuko wasn’t about to let his secret out, at least not yet. Katara knew, and that was fine, but her brother…”There aren’t any benders left in the Southern Water Tribe. They were wiped out.”

Deafening silence fell between the three, though Zuko could imagine how it sounded. Wiped out in the course of war, murdered to prevent some sort of catastrophe that would have made the Fire Nation or any of the Earth Kingdom vulnerable. The Air Nomads were all but gone, hidden away in the corners of the world where no one could reach them; and even if they did it wouldn’t be the first time. Notorious for their peaceful ways, and always staying out of the fight even as others suffered the consequences...their demeanor of monastery-like behavior was uncanny and cold.

Not that he’d ever seen an airbender personally, but Zuko wasn’t leaping at the chance to. And if he left the village, there would be no one to defend it from any sort of outside threat. He had to stay put, even for a little while, just until the rest of the men came back from war. Then he could figure out what to do with his soulmate, even if it meant running off and doing something absolutely stupid to make sure they were together.

It felt like hours as they paddled through the icy waters, the chill rising up to meet their faces in the wind as the three searched for anything that might look unnatural or out of the ordinary. Sokka was less than enthused, though his eyes seemed to be the sharpest, glaring from iceberg to iceberg as if it were made of mystical properties. Something must have caught his eye, though, because he nearly tipped the boat over in his enthusiasm.

“Look over there!” An accusing finger pointed towards one of the ice-floes that had flat snowpack around it, though that wasn’t what the finger was pointing at, not at all. “Doesn’t that look round to you?”

What the Fire prince was pointing towards was indeed round, uncharacteristically so for being in the South Pole. And it seemed to be glowing, which was definitely not natural. Zuko’s mind boggled at the thought that maybe, just maybe Katara had been right, and the Avatar had survived all this time. But that would have to be impossible...wouldn’t it? As he steered the canoe closer to the ice-floe, Zuko’s heart sank a bit, wondering what this would mean for all of them if it was indeed the mystical being. Would he have to fight in a war that he had no part of? And his newly budding relationship--because he wanted one outside of just sex--how would that change? War changed people, and with the way things were at the moment, change wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing.

It was Katara who walked up to the sphere of ice, nearly tripping over the snow and her own two feet as she approached it. Truthfully, it looked like fine-spun glass, things that he’d only ever heard about from his Uncle. But glass didn’t glow, and it didn’t feel warm beneath the surface either. He barely had time to think before Katara chucked off her gloves and placed her hands on the surface, watching as the ice cracked beneath the heat of her chi.

“Wait..!” But it was too late; the bubble had already burst into glowing cracks, warm air streaming from inside as it melted down into the snow. The very ice beneath them started to quake, just as they saw the boy inside of the ruined globe--he couldn’t have been more than twelve, and it turned out that the globe of ice had been glowing because of him. Caught in a trance-like state, staring into the abyss with glowing eyes that resembled something of Tui and La.

It spooked Zuko down to his core.

“Holy…” Zuko’s lips opened, but nothing came out--thankfully, Sokka was articulating his distress and disbelief at finding a child in an iceberg. As if that were the real issue at hand. He had just enough time to think while profanities spewed from Sokka’s mouth to grab Katara’s wrist and pull her back to him, just as another blast of warm air threatened to topple them over. “Don’t touch him, we don’t know what might happen if we do.”

“...it’s the Avatar. He’s real, Zuko.” As if on cue he could feel their hearts beating together wildly, out of sync and rhythm but still in time with one another. “We could save the world, fix the issues that my and Sokka’s ancestors brought down…”

“It couldn’t be that simple.” Nothing ever was. “But if anyone’s going to take a spirit’s wrath then I’ll do it. I can’t risk you two getting hurt over something in my territory.” 

Katara grabbed his arm, shaking her head. “No. I won’t let you do this alone. I can’t risk it. If we do this, we’re doing it together.” Her hand found its way into Zuko’s, soft and warm despite the chill in the air, and they reached out together to give the boy in the melted remains of the iceberg a quick shove.

The reaction was almost simultaneous--Sokka’s scream, another burst of air that nearly sent the two toppling to the ice, and the glow fading from the boy’s eyes. He actually started to drop from his position, something that none of them had bothered to notice--the boy had been floating there inside the sphere, not just sitting. The boy was dressed in earthen tones and greens, something that the three noted, and he sat up, rubbing his eyes wearily to look at them with deep chocolate-colored irises. 

“Where..? Who..?” The boy’s eyes wandered to the third member of the party, squinting at the clothing, before shivering. “It’s cold.”

“You’re a bit far south to be wearing such things.” Zuko murmured, though he didn’t quite make a move to help the boy up. There was still shock wearing in on his face and in his soul--and it wasn’t hard to see why.

“You’re...the Avatar.” Katara breathed it out softly, and Zuko swallowed back his warring emotions, looking towards the creature that was curled up behind the boy. 

“...that’s an Air Nomad’s sky bison.”

“I stole it.” As if it were the exact right thing to do, as if the boy had no choice. “I don’t remember how I got here though.”

Katara leapt into action, helping the boy to his feet as she looked at Zuko, golden eyes warm and afraid. “We’ll help you remember. But first, let’s get you somewhere safe and dry, and you can tell us your name.”

“That’s easy.” The boy grinned, brown locks messily draping over his eyes. “I’m Aang.”

“Well, I’m cold and hungry!” Sokka protested, gesturing towards the boat. “This ice feels like it’s about to crack any minute now and I want to get out of here!”

Katara and Zuko looked towards one another, a laugh spilling from their chests as they bowled over at Sokka’s misfortune, before climbing into the canoe, watching the boy called Aang slip onto the stolen sky bison, ready to fly behind them.

Things were indeed changing, but hope bloomed in Zuko’s chest. He could feel it blossoming in Katara’s smile, or Sokka’s ranting in the back of the canoe as they paddled back to the village. They’d found two myths in less than two days, and he’d have so much to write to Uncle Iroh, more than he even thought was possible. 

They’d found the Avatar. They could end the war, and bring peace to the world again; a place where he could stay with his soul-bonded partner without fear or prejudice. Zuko just hoped that peace wouldn’t take long to obtain; little did he know that their story was just beginning.


End file.
